


Hendo

by Selah



Series: Sadame [3]
Category: Jrock, Plastic Tree, SID (band), Shounenki (Band)
Genre: M/M, Oral Sex, references to character deaths, very light D/s
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-16
Updated: 2015-07-18
Packaged: 2018-04-09 15:50:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,396
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4355000
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Selah/pseuds/Selah
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Winter is an unlikely season for changes perhaps, but things couldn't just stay the same forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Sorrow

**Author's Note:**

> Part of my 10encounters claim, the person for this chapter is Tadashi, so I don't feel too bad about the SID infiltration. Chapter prompt: dead symphony - so yes, references to the deaths of hide and Isshi (who were both born in December).

December was always a difficult month for Ryuutarou. Everyone rushing around for end of the year lives and specials and collaborations and parties. And then there was Christmas, with its own parties and rituals and couples everywhere.

Of course, before one could get to Christmas, there were two other dates to get past first.

“... you're doing it again,” a familiar voice murmured, the weight of his best friend's arms settling around his shoulders. Ryuutarou relaxed in spite of himself, leaning back against the other man with a soft sigh.

“Sorry. I know, it's ridiculous to still be like this even after all this time,” he murmured.

“Your feelings are what they are and that makes them perfectly valid, Tarou, that's all that matters,” the other man replied. Ryuutarou nodded, trying to accept the words, but they didn't fit with what he was feeling. Surely after so many years he should be able to note these two dates without this melancholy hanging over his head between them.

“Come on,” Tadashi said, abruptly pulling away and tugging on the back of his shirt. “We're going out.”

“Eh? Tadashi, I don't –.”

“Nope, we're going out. I need a drink and you need to get laid.”

“T-tadashi!!”

His best friend turned then and frowned at him. “Tell me, Tarou, tell me when the last time was that you had someone of your own, even just for a fling? Tell me it wasn't before he died.”

“I ... o-of course I've been with someone since then!”

“Liar,” the other man rumbled. “Maybe you've let someone fuck you, use you for his own pleasure, but it wasn't real. It wasn't even fake real, cuz you checked out before he even got his pants off.”

“Tadashi, it's ... I'm fine, really. You don't have to worry about me.”

“Like hell I don't,” his best friend grumbled, arms crossing over his chest. “How long have we been friends now? You need someone to worry about you, it's how you are. And you sure as hell aren't letting anyone else worry over you right now.”

Ryuutarou huffed and pouted at Tadashi, but for once, it wasn't quite having the desired effect.

“Look, we'll call Akira and Kenken, maybe a couple other people, have a few drinks at this place I know. If you meet someone interesting, fine. If you don't, fine. Hell, we'll even have a round for each of them, okay?”

“Okay,” he said, sighing as he finally bowed to his fate. Sulking wasn't getting him anywhere, pouting hadn't worked at all. There were worse ways to spend an evening than in a bar with his best friends. What was the worst that could happen, right? 

And then they were joined at the bar by Mao and Aki of SID and Ryuutarou felt himself wondering why he had thought this would be a nice, safe way to spend an evening. 

“Mou, such a terrible face, senpai,” Mao teased, grinning playfully. “Are we being too cruel, making you come out for drinks with us? Pikishiko will make it all better for you, ne, Piki~?”

“Oi! Don't start that shit out here!” Aki protested, swatting his vocalist. “Someone might hear you and take you seriously, you pervert!”

“Oh, should I have waited for us to be at a table first?” Mao teased again. Aki rolled his eyes, swatting the singer again before moving to sling an arm around Ryuutarou and practically forcing him into the bar with him. Swallowing down a sigh, he let his kouhai walk him all the way to a generous corner booth at the back of the bar. Ryuutarou immediately scooted around to the back of the booth, anxious for whatever limited protection being hemmed in by his companions on both sides might gain him from Tadashi's plans. From the way Tadashi rolled his eyes before joining him, he knew he had been at least somewhat correct in his assumption. 

Really, this whole situation was a bit ridiculous. Okay, true, he hadn't had a serious relationship in, well, more years than was probably healthy, but still. That had nothing to do with anything. It was December and he was in mourning, that was all.

“To hide-sama,” Akira said when the first round of beers arrived, “without whom we probably wouldn't even be here.”

It was a slight bit of exaggeration, but no one objected; it made for a good toast. If hide had never been born, Yoshiki would have just found someone else, though it wouldn't have been the same.

The way the conversation turned to works in progress and plans for the coming year, Ryuutarou expected the rest of the night to progress that way. And he was fine with that; better that he sit in a bar with a bunch of friends discussing music and touring than be forced to make small talk with some pretty face whose name he didn't even know. So he was a little surprised when, upon delivery of the second round, Mao held up his glass in an obvious prelude to another toast.

“To Isshi-kun, my dear friend, taken from us too soon. He refused to believe me when I told him how much of an impact he had on others. Maybe now he can see it for himself.”

“To Issama,” Ryuutarou murmured, surprised to hear his bandmates joining in the toast, though perhaps he shouldn't have been. Kagrra had been their kouhai for over a decade, even if there had always been a certain distance between them. Tadashi and Akira ... well, no, it had really been mostly Akira who had made the assumptions about Ryuutarou's friendships with their kouhai. Assumptions that Ryuutarou probably should have corrected, but ... it hadn't really seemed worth the effort? And then it had been too late. Still, the loss of a fellow artist, particularly one in the prime of his life, wasn't something to be so easily ignored or forgotten. Even by someone who had been determined to think the worst of him, it seemed.

“He really did have the most ridiculous sort of denial about things, didn't he?” Aki said with a little smile and shake of his head.

“Another thing the two of them had in common,” Ryuutarou said with a soft sigh. “Hide-senpai used to be the same way, downplaying his own skills and influence.”

“They weren't the only ones with that problem,” Mao said, giving him a significant look. Ryuutarou felt heat rising into his cheeks at that, but he couldn't really argue the point. Intellectually, he knew he and Plastic Tree had been - and continued to be - an influence on the visual kei scene, but it was hard to really make himself believe it. He was just one man, and not even all that special of a man, so really, how much of an influence could he have?

“... yeah, senpai definitely needs to drink up some more,” Mao teased softly, pushing another drink across the table at him. Ryuutarou rolled his eyes but accepted the beer all the same. So his kouhai was a little crazy, that was hardly news. At least he was getting free alcohol out of it.


	2. Forgetting

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> written for 10_encounters@LJ.com for the prompt "amber fantasy"

Ryuutarou was feeling well and properly buzzed when he finally noticed that, in all the comings and goings and paying for more rounds, he had somehow been shuffled from the back of their little semi-circular booth to almost on the outside. And then Aki was dragging him away from what possible comfort and protection there might have been in the booth to join him on the dance floor.

“Relax, senpai,” Aki teased, grinning at him. “You're supposed to be having fun, remember? Senpai does remember how to do that, ne~?”

Ryuutarou rolled his eyes but refrained from smacking the other man, if only because he knew it wouldn't do any good. Aki laughed and there was something decidedly wicked in his eyes. And then Ryuutarou was being bodily turned around and all but shoved into someone else. Further proof that he was more drunk than he usually liked as he stumbled and the both of them went down to the floor in a tangle of limbs and apologies. What the hell did Aki think he was doing?

“S-so– ... senpai?”

The man under him was all wiggles and Ryuutarou yelped, then felt himself turn deep red with embarrassment for it. As loud as the club was, pretty sure not even the younger man under him had even heard him. Or realized that, in all his wiggling to get out from under him, he'd copped a cheap feel. Shaking himself, Ryuutarou scooted away and apologized again for being so clumsy.

A hand helped him up and Ryuutarou found himself blinking at the handsome face of the hand's owner. Sharp, angular features framed in black and green. Mostly green, so probably some sort of artist or designer. Black and green and shimmers of silver and he really was quite striking. And young.

Words, he should be using words for something about now. If he could only make them actually form in his brain, roll off of his tongue.

“I'd say senpai should be more careful, but....”

That smile, half charming, half self-deprecating, not unlike the words that both had and hadn't been an apology. That hand was still holding his and when had he gotten so close to him? He didn't even have a name for this apparent kouhai and yet all he could think about were those lips on his, of hands on bare skin and teeth and nails and wordless gasps of pleasure. Ryuutarou wasn't sure, couldn't tell if it was him nudging or if it was something this beautiful man was doing that was drawing him in closer. Those eyes....

“Take me home, senpai,” the young man said, eyes hooded with dark promises. Ryuutarou felt himself nodding in agreement, squeezing the hand still holding his and angling for the door. Only to feel himself caught, pulled back against the younger man's chest.

“Shouldn't you say something to your friends first, senpai?” his kouhai murmured into his ear, sending warm shivers down his spine. Oh right, yes, he should do that. Tadashi would want to know his stupid little plan had worked ... or at least want to know that he hadn't been kidnaped by some biker gang or something. Rather than try to make his way back to the booth, however, Ryuutarou fished out his phone and sent a quick text to both Tadashi and Mao. Just in case Aki didn't tell them himself.

Pocketing his phone, he made another attempt for the exit, and though he was allowed to pull away, his kouhai didn't let go of him completely, twining their fingers together as they walked. Nor did he let go even when they were outside, though the chill in the air suddenly reminded Ryuutarou why he should have gone back to the booth. Neither of them had coats on, both of them rushing through the snow and the cold until, breathlessly laughing, Ryuutarou tugged him into his building, up the stairs to his tiny apartment.

“That was –,” but the rest of his words were swept away by the press of lips to his. Some small corner of his mind was trying to protest, but the rest of him really didn't care, arms circling the younger man's shoulders as he parted his lips, invited him in deeper. He felt his back thump against the door and groaned, pulling the other man closer. He could still feel the chill on his kouhai's skin, though it was fading quickly. He should really suggest they move out of the genkan, but his kisses were too good, too distracting, too addicting.

And then the other man was stepping back, a knowing smirk curving his lips.

“Bedroom? Unless you want your neighbors hearing everything.”

He was blushing, he could feel himself blushing, it was completely embarrassing. How ridiculous. But no, he didn't need his neighbors hearing whatever might come from this. Resisting the urge to rub at his cheeks, he nodded and forced his legs to take him to the bedroom without wobbling. 

Ryuutarou felt like he should be asking his kouhai for a name, wanted to ask him, but the words sounded too awkward, even just in his own head. And it wasn't made any less awkward for the way hands didn't wait to get to the bedroom to help themselves to his admittedly more than willing body. Still slightly chilled hands slipped under the back of his shirt as they walked and he nearly tripped, grateful that his kouhai couldn't see the sudden increase in his blushing. He didn't bother with the lights, heading mostly straight for his bed and shrugging off his sweater before turning back around to face his kouhai. And what he saw took his breath away.

Maybe his mind had been playing tricks with him; he had been certain the younger man hadn't let go of him the entire time they had walked from the front door to the bed, and yet somehow his kouhai had managed to undress completely. The only light was what leaked through his curtains from the street lamps outside his building, and yet it was enough to see the lines of toned muscle, the slender build that said artist more than athlete. Ryuutarou felt his eyes drawn down that beautiful body, over youthful abs to narrow hips that drew the gaze inwards, to heavy silver rings on slender fingers curled around a half erect cock. He licked his lips, his knees trembling a moment with the urge to kneel before him and take that gorgeous cock into his mouth.

“Like what you see?” his kouhai said, the smirk clear in both his words and the way he lazily stroked himself. Ryuutarou couldn't make his throat release the words, instead licking his lips again and nodding. That produced a low chuckle from the other man, another couple of strokes before he stepped closer, leaned in to whisper in his ear: “Then maybe you should do something about it.”

Permission enough and he sank to his knees, peeling away those fingers before sliding his tongue along the length of his shaft. He let lips and tongue explore, making a sort of mental map of the moans he was able to draw from the younger man with just his mouth. Intoxicating, the way he could feel him growing harder on his lips, in his mouth. Ryuutarou glanced up through his lashes and the heat in his belly stirred at the way those dark eyes were watching him. Fingers curled into his hair as hips began shallow thrusts and Ryuutarou let himself fall into the rhythm building between them.

The fingers in his hair tugged upwards and he took the hint, letting the other man's cock slip from his lips with a wet sound before getting to his feet. Sliding his own hands over bare skin, he stepped closer and pressed a hungry kiss to his kouhai's lips. Fingers tightened in his hair as he was eased backwards onto the bed, laid out almost too gently. Not that he objected to slow and tender, but it wasn't what he really needed. 

“Please,” he mumbled between breathless kisses, not even sure how he was going to finish that question. It was one thing to be kinky the way Ryuutarou was, and another thing to tell a virtually unknown kouhai that he was a submissive by nature. Especially after having picked up said kouhai in a completely non-kinky bar.

“Anything you want, senpai,” the other man murmured against his lips. “Just say the words.”

Ryuutarou whined a frustrated noise and rocked up against the younger man, curling fingers into black and green hair. What he wanted as an orgasm so strong he forgot his own name, but how did one go about asking for something like that? Especially when he still couldn't find the words to explain his own kinky desires.

“Anything you want,” his kouhai repeated, lips trailing down his throat. 

“Nng, fuck me,” he whined. “Fuck me so hard I forget how to breathe.” 

Well, that was one way of asking. One that seemed to work as he felt the other man's smirk brush against his skin, followed by nipping teeth that trailed a line to one nipple, latching onto the small bud of flesh and sucking hard. Ryuutarou groaned, tightening his grip on the younger man's hair. He couldn't decide where he most wanted that mouth on his body, other than everywhere. That mouth, those hands, and that hard cock pounding into him, that was what he wanted, even if all he was managing at the moment was a series of low whining noises. But oh it felt so good to be wanted, desired like this again. To have another person's hands on his body and that rush that came from being with a new person, the need to explore and be explored completely.

“Mm, but senpai's going to have to let go of my hair,” his kouhai purred, flicking his nipple with his tongue when he was done speaking. Another whine, but Ryuutarou did as was asked of him, shifting to tug open the drawer on his night stand. Another smile painted onto his skin, those lips trailing up a wet, sharp line to his ear.

“How far would you go?” the other man murmured, nipping his earlobe. “Just how kinky is senpai, hmm?”

“Very,” he confessed with a shudder, knowing what all he would see in that drawer if the other man actually looked. Which of course he did, his curiosity no doubt piqued by Ryuutarou's confession. It wasn't much, compared to what was in the closet, being only a couple of butt plugs, a set of cuffs, a cock ring, and the more mundane lube and condoms, but it was enough to widen his kouhai's eyes in surprise. And then a grin of pleasure replaced that look of surprise.

“Why senpai,” his kouhai purred, withdrawing the cock ring with a wicked grin. “I had no idea. Ah, it's always the quiet ones, isn't it?”

“Does that make you a quiet one, too?” he countered, feeling his own lips curling into a playful smirk as well. That was enough to have the younger man leaning in and kissing him again and Ryuutarou didn't care that this meant he wasn't getting an answer to his question. Then again, words weren't really necessary, especially when he felt the cold metal of the ring settling into place. 

“My, such talents you have,” he murmured, more than half teasing.

“Oh senpai has no idea ... yet,” his kouhai purred and once more he could see those dark promises in his eyes. He arched into his touch with a low moan of wanting, quite liking the sound of that. Ryuutarou was quite certain the loss of one night's sleep would be worth what those eyes promised to show him.

~*~*~

Ryuutarou wasn't sure what time it was when he roused again, surprised to be waking to the feel of fingers carding through his hair. Somehow he had been expecting his kouhai to take advantage of the opening affording by his being asleep to slip out of the apartment and out of his life. Instead, it looked like he'd done nothing more than help himself to a shower and some sleep of his own.

“Afternoon,” the younger man purred with a low smile. “Hasegawa-senpai came by earlier, he said to tell you, let's see if I can remember it exactly right ... you can have today off but you can't keep me as an excuse for tomorrow.”

“Dunno how I'm supposed to use you as an excuse when I don't even know your name,” he mumbled, blushing when the less than elegant words reached his own ears. He could almost hear Isshi scolding him for such reckless behavior, for such crude words. And on a night when he had been honoring his friend and mentor's memory, no less!

But he saw only amusement in those dark eyes, fingers brushing a strand of hair away from his face. Perhaps he hadn't just bungled everything.

“It's Rei and my band is Shounenki. Please continue to treat me well, senpai.”

Ryuutarou couldn't help but return that smile, catching his wrist and planting a kiss to the palm of his hand.

“Count on it.”


End file.
